


a sky full of stars

by pr_scatterbrain



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Found Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 23:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9146608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pr_scatterbrain/pseuds/pr_scatterbrain
Summary: “I adopted a dog,” Sidney explains, pointing to the bundle of grey fur on the other side of the dog park. “The vet thinks he’s probably a husky or malamute.”Phil glances at Sidney's dog, and then at Sidney.“... that isn't a husky," he says after a beat.Sidney shrugs. "Yeah, no. Probably a mutt, but I have to put something on the registration forms."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vestigialstell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vestigialstell/gifts).



> To vestigialstell - all your prompts were amazing and if I had time I would have written more than one fic for you. I hope you enjoy this <3<3<3

 

 

_The forest will answer you in the way you call to it._

Finnish proverb

 

 

The rattle of Sidney’s radiator heaters wakes him. It’s early, but it usually is. He arrived in Pittsburgh a few months ago, and he hasn’t quite gotten into the rhythm of things. Mario promises it will come with time, but Sidney isn’t sure how much more of it he needs before he stops waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It’s dark outside. A faint flutter of movement is the only thing his eyes can pick up. It was snowing when he went to bed. Judging by the build up around his window ledge, it’s been snowing steadily since then.

The window becomes a mirror when he switches a light on and turns on his coffee maker.

It’s probably too early, but it’s not like any of his men are around to comment on his ridiculous habits. Yet even in their absence, Sidney can hear their voices – Duper joking about how Sidney’s retirement was meant to make him soft, while Talbo would probably say something sarcastic about the military complex institutionalising all of them, especially Sidney.

They’d both be right. More or less.

“It’s early days yet,” Mario says when he finds Sidney at work.

There is kindness to his voice. There always has been.

The position he offered Sidney within the Mario Lemieux Foundation is still one Sidney is getting used to. There is purpose to working on the grant arm of the foundation. He gets to work on the front lines, and see the difference they can make. It’s something that ties the pieces of Sidney’s heart back together. Or as much as anything can.

The office is quiet. It’s still strange to Sidney. His ears ring with it.

Sidney’s hands are steady though. He thinks that counts for something.

 

 

The days are getting shorter and it’s dark by the time Sidney leaves work in the afternoon.

There is an email from his sister waiting for him when he gets home. On her way to OSC, she sounds anxious. It’s hidden between the lines, but he can tell. He was excited when he went.

(She was excited before Sidney’s last deployment).  

 

 

There is a pet shop in the mall near the foundation’s offices. Sidney walks past it whenever it’s his turn to go on a coffee run. Towards the back of the store, in one of the larger enclosures there is a German Shepard puppy. Sidney isn’t sure how long it’s been there. Maybe longer than he’s been in Pittsburgh. It's soft puppy fur is getting slicker with every day. It’s growing out of puppyhood. That is a problem. According to the sales clerk, people have been worried about how big it’s going to get.

“Dogs like them are a big commitment,” she tells Sidney.

Sidney nods.

His family had big dogs when he was growing up. Usually boxers or labs. On summer breaks, he’d come home and spend hours outside with them. It was what got him through those long weeks. As a teenager he couldn’t talk to his family. He never knew what to say. As much as his father said he knew Sidney, it felt like a lie. Sidney didn’t even know half of what was going on in his head. He only made sense at military school, and even then, only part of the time.

That was a long time ago.

It isn’t like that anymore. He isn’t like that anymore.

Sidney could buy the dog. He isn’t going anywhere.

He could buy it and name it.

Things are different now.

 

 

Sidney’s always hated running.

There is no reason to keep doing it. No one would care if he stopped. No one would even know.

All those things are true, but Sidney still laces up his running shoes each morning before work, and on the weekends.

The weather has been getting worse and worse. People are saying it’s the harshest winter Pittsburgh has had in a decade. Snow covers the ground and ice has been forming over the pavement and roads. Maybe he should stop.  Maybe if he did, he might be able to sleep until his alarm wakes him. There are lots of maybe’s in Sidney’s life. It wasn’t always like this.

This time last year Sidney’s life was made up of straight lines of progression.

On track for an early promotion, Sidney was exactly where he wanted to be. Until he wasn't. He isn’t sure where he is now. He isn’t sure of anything. Not when his heart failed him and his head can’t always be trusted.

People are the sum of their parts. Sidney’s mother always used to say that.

Sidney isn’t sure what he adds up to anymore.

So. He runs.

 

 

There is a coffee van near the local dog park. Sidney tries to stop there, if he can.

He doesn’t much like the taste of coffee. This coffee is probably good. Anything would be compared to some of the stuff he drank on deployment. He liked it then, as much as he liked anything. Which probably says more than he would prefer.

On weekdays he sometimes runs into this dog walker. Sidney recognises some of the dogs by now. The dog walker recognises him. They nod when Sidney stops and checks his heart rate. Sidney thinks his name is Phillip. Phil. It’s written on his cup.

He says something while he waits for his coffee order.

“What?” Sidney says, pulling one of his earphones out.

“Looks like snow,” he repeats awkwardly.

Sidney – he nods. “Yeah. Looks like.”

The traffic lights take too long to change.

 

 

Today isn’t a day he can stop.

The following day isn’t either.

 

 

Sidney manages to keep going for most of the week. On the weekend he tries to sleep and tries to talk to his mother when she calls. Her voice sounds the same. He would know it anywhere.

She’s worried about him.

She’s been worried about him for years.

“I’m okay,” he tells her.

“I know,” she says.

Neither of them are lying. Not completely.

 

 

(Sidney wants to be telling the truth. He does.)

 

 

The social media coordinator is a dick.

He has great hair and taste in suits. Also an amazing jawline. But it’s just icing.

No one seems to realise it apart from Sidney. Probably, Sidney should hate him. He doesn’t.

Kris Letang apparently graduated from some fancy Ivy League college. Or so the mug on his desk says. But he could have just bought it on amazon.

“Fuck you,” Kris says.

Sidney shrugs.

They end up going for drinks after work. It’s a staff thing, apparently.

Sidney manages one drink before he wants to leave. Kris doesn’t do much better.

“This has to be the worst bar in Pittsburgh,” Kris says part way through his micro brewed beer. “Did you pick it, Sid the Kid?”

Judging by the look on the marketing director’s face, they choose it.

Kris doesn’t apologise. Sidney wants to. He ends up sharing a cab with Kris instead.

 

 

Kris ends up following Sidney home more often than not.  

When he does, he likes to talk shit about Sidney’s creepy display house home, eat all Sidney’s bacon for breakfast, and force Sidney to drive him to his expensive apartment before work to get changed into a fresh suit.

“Ever heard of delaying your goddamn gratification?” Kris says to Sidney whenever he complains. “You can ride your bike to work tomorrow and make us all feel lazy then.”

“We could ride into work together,” Sidney says. “It would be good for the environment as well as our health.”

Kris gags.

 

 

Sidney guesses they’re friends or whatever.

 

  

The military thing isn’t a secret. When the foundation opens their newest Playroom in the local VA hospital, Kris trots Sidney out to talk to the brass.

It looks good, Sidney knows abstractly. Both in photographs and in print; a Canadian war hero shaking hands with the American ones.

Only Sidney’s heart doesn’t quite beat right afterwards. After work he goes running. His legs give out on him on his ninth or tenth circuit of the park. He ends up sitting under the shade near the entrance of the dog park.

He tells himself he’ll give himself just five minutes, and then he’ll get up.

Five minutes becomes ten.

Ten becomes twenty.

 

 

Sidney watches people and their dogs come and go for most of the afternoon.

 

 

The park is nearly empty when Sidney hears it.

Sidney isn’t sure, but then – he hears it again.

A whimper.

It’s soft but plaintive.

He follows it to the scraggly shrubs and into the long grass.

And then there is a pile of matted fur with big paws and bright blue eyes. A puppy.

Sidney doesn’t know what to do, so he does the only thing he can do. He takes it home with him.

In his laundry, he fills the sink with lukewarm water and washes the worst of the dirt and mud away. The puppy makes soft sounds when Sidney carefully tries to unknot some of its matted hair. 

“Sorry, Sidney tells it.

It. It is a him.

“Sunshine,” Sidney decides afterwards, when the dog is enthusiastically eating the left over steak and steamed vegetables from Sidney’s dinner.

It’s stupid. Both the name and him for giving it. He knows it, but that doesn’t stop him.

When Sunshine – Sunny, maybe? For short – has finished eating, Sidney makes him a nest of blankets near the heater and puts out some newspaper.

 

 

Before work, Sidney takes Sunshine to the vet... just in case.

“No microchip,” the vet says.

“I think he was dumped,” Sidney says.

The vet nods. “I wouldn’t be surprised. It happens a lot around this time of the year.”

 

 

During Sidney’s lunch break, he goes and gets tags made for Sunshine. And a leash. And a proper dog bed. And a few other things.

(Sidney’s never done things by halves. Especially not when it comes to stupid decisions.)

 

 

“I got a dog,” Sidney tells Mario when they catch up over dinner at his home.

“A dog,” Mario says. He’s grinning.

“A puppy,” Sidney specifies.

Mario doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to.

 

 

So Sidney has a dog. A puppy.

And now he has a reason to go into the dog park.  

Sunshine isn’t much for games of fetch, as Sidney has discovered over the past few days. However it’s good for dogs to socialise, Sidney reminds himself. Thus the dog park.

When they get there, he unsnaps Sunshine’s leash and nods at him. “Off you go.”

Sunshine looks up at him.

Sidney looks back at him. “I’ll wait here for you.”

Sunshine huffs.

He doesn’t seem at all enthusiastic to leave Sidney’s side. Sidney might be biased, but he thinks Sunshine is an inordinately intelligent dog. Over the past few days he learnt his name, and has easily picked up simple commands.

“How about ten minutes?” Sidney proposes. “You need to stretch your legs.”

He does. It’s not good for a dog to be locked inside all day without a walk. He tells Sunshine that too.

Sunshine makes a small puppyish sound before reluctantly trotting off. Though not very far.

Sidney watches as he sniffs at some shrubs. Every now and then he glances back over to Sidney, as if to check he’s still there.

It’s… nice.

 

 

“Hey Sid,” Phil says a little later. “I don’t normally see you on this side of the fence.”

He’s only got four dogs with him today. Two standard poodles, a collie and a west highland terrier. The west highland terrier is wearing a red waterproof coat. It’s bright in the frozen landscape of the park.

“Hey,” Sidney says, leaning down to help unclip their leashes.

They’re sort of friends, Sidney thinks as Phil sits down next to him. Or friendly. Maybe.

“I got a dog. Sunshine. Sunny for short,” Sidney explains, pointing to the bundle of grey fur now drinking from the dog water fountain. “The vet thinks he’s probably a husky or malamute.”

Phil glances at Sunshine, and then at Sidney. 

“... Sunshine isn't a husky," he says after a beat.

Sidney shrugs. "Yeah, no. Probably a mutt, but I have to put something on the registration forms."

“Uhm,” Phil says. 

“Apparently you can DNA test dogs, but I didn’t think it was worth it for some council forms.”

Phil shifts a little in his seat.

“Not that it’s a waste of money,” Sidney adds. “It’s just not something I’m interested in.”

“Yeah,” Phil says. “Okay.”

Sidney feels like an ass. He’s seen the kind of dogs Phil walks and his own dog Stella. They’re all beautiful, well-trained and clearly well cared for. Some are even show dogs.  

“Coffee?” Sidney asks.

It’s a bit of a cop out, but it’s not like Phil will hold it against him.

Phil manages a nod, but he won’t quite meet Sidney’s eyes.  “Thanks. I’ll keep an eye on Sunshine for you.”

 

 

When Sidney returns, he catches Phil talking to Sunshine. Sitting just out of arms reach of Phil, Sunshine looks particularly puppy like. It’s kind of cute, Sidney thinks. He wishes he had a free hand to pull out his iPhone and snap a picture.

“Are you going to be good for Sid?” he hears Phil asks.

Phil’s voice is so serious.

Sunshine whines in response. It’s squeaky and oddly high pitched.

Sidney’s heart does a thing and he kind of wishes he could record that on his iPhone as well.

“No biting,” Phil says. “And no stealing Sid’s stuff, okay. Not even his shoes.”

Sidney has to laugh a little.

“Sunshine has his own toys to chew,” he says, handing Phil his coffee.

Phil blushes.

“It’s not what it sounded like,” he tries to tell Sidney.

Sidney shrugs. He’s only had Sunshine a few days, but he talks to his dog too. He tells Phil that, but Phil only gets more flustered. Sidney makes himself take a sip of his coffee. Sometimes he really needs to quit while he’s ahead.

 

 

When Sidney finishes his coffee, Phil fishes his business card out of his wallet. “If you need a dog walker or anything, give me a call.”

Then, his expression shifts a few times over and then he awkwardly gives Sidney some advice about feeding Sunshine a raw meat diet, instead of canned stuff.

“Dogs like Sunshine have specific needs,” he says, scratching his arm.

Phil is a good guy.

Sidney thinks about calling him to walk Sunshine, but it’s nice to have the routine of doing that himself. Having Sunshine stops him from going into the office too early and makes him leave at a reasonable time at the end of the day. He gets in the habit of fitting in short walks in before his morning and evening run. In a few months maybe Sunshine will be big enough to be able to go on runs too. Maybe hikes as well.

Sidney thinks he would like that.

Sunshine is a good dog. He’s quiet and well behaved. Maybe that is why it’s so unexpected when he disappears on one of their walks. Sidney doesn’t know what happens. He is there by Sidney’s side one moment, gone the next.

Sidney feels his panic rise with every unanswered call and whistle.

He isn’t sure what to do.

But before he can – he doesn’t know what – Sunshine reappears.

Only he’s not by himself.

Half hidden in his shadow is another puppy.

“Oh,” Sidney finds himself saying.

 

 

The other puppy – Sidney needs to think of a name, when he takes it home with them – must be one of Sunshine’s litter mates. They both share the same thick grey fur, huge paws and bright blue eyes. Only where Sunshine immediately made himself at home in Sidney’s house, his litter mate is wary and unsure. He startles at loud noises and keeps himself carefully at arm’s length.

“You too, huh?” Sidney mutters. 

Sidney knows a bit about that, but that’s alright. He understands what it’s like.

 

 

“Another one?” Kris asks, when Sidney turns up to work.

“Who told you?” Sidney asks.

Kris rolls his eyes and invites himself over for dinner.

He promises to cook but instead he orders take away. When it arrives, he makes Sidney go and pay for it.

“The three of us will get out some plates,” Kris says.

“Remember you said that,” Sidney tells him.

Neither of Sidney’s dogs seems to like Kris. Sunshine even growled at him. Sure, it made Kris laugh, but it wasn’t behaviour Sidney wanted to see or encourage. Since Sidney told them off they’ve carefully kept their distance. Hopefully it won’t take too long for them to realise that Kris is Sidney’s friend, not a stranger to be wary of, but Sidney isn’t sure how they will act without him there to remind them.

While making small talk with the delivery person Sidney thinks he hears a scuffle in the kitchen. However nothing is amiss when he finishes paying and tipping. In fact, Kris looks almost thoughtful.

“Everything ok?” Sidney asks, setting down their boxes of Japanese food on the counter.

“Totally,” Kris says.

There is something off in his voice.

When Kris notices Sidney’s expression, he rolls his eyes.

And ok. That’s more like him.

With the moment of weirdness over, Sidney grabs the bowls and Kris starts elbowing him to get the lion share of the dumplings.

It’s only later, when they are eating the last of the noodles in their ramen, Kris glances over at Sidney’s dogs.

“Got a name for the new one?”

Sidney shakes his head. He’s tried a few names, but nothing yet has really fitted him.

“Olli,” Kris says. “With two L’s and an i.”

It’s not a bad name. Sidney looks at him. His huge ears have perked up.

“Olli,” Sidney tries out.

Sunshine and Olli.

“I like it,” Sidney decides.

 

 

There are things Sidney doesn’t want to think about. There are things he can’t talk about. The fact he wakes up more often than not with his heart racing and his legs tangled in his sheets is one of them.

He’s had a good few weeks, but it doesn’t last. It never does. When the nightmares come back, he panics. He wakes, thrashing, in the middle of one. There is something holding him down. Like a wild creature, flailing his limbs he tries to get free. He can’t breathe or think and then he’s on the floor.

The shock of the fall brings him back to himself. Or near enough.

Gasping, crying, he –

It takes him a while to realise his dogs are barking. Whining. Scratching desperately at his bedroom door.

“I’m ok,” he tells them, when he has the strength to let them in.

They push their wet noses at him, and climb over him, checking him for non-existent injuries. Their claws leave red marks on his skin and their tongues lick the tears off his cheeks. 

His hands feel clumsy and his heart feels so tired and so broken.

He cries and he doesn’t know if he can stop.

 

 

(He calls in sick.)

 

 

(Mario calls to check on him.

Sidney doesn’t answer.)

 

 

( _Tell me you’re safe,_ Mario texts.

Sidney can. It’s about the only thing he can do that day).

 

 

Sidney goes back to work.

He goes back to walking his dogs.

He goes back to running.

He goes to the VA. He goes to his therapist.

He has his routines.

 

 

Winter in Pittsburgh is unrelenting. It’s cold and dark and Sidney’s Canadian blood isn’t quite enough to keep him warm.

In the morning he wraps his doona cover around his body when he lets his dogs out. It’s clear that neither of them wants to go outside but unlike him, they are made for this kind of weather. They remember that around the same time Sidney hears his mobile ring. Sunshine is crouching down low and about to pounce on Olli – it’s sure to be hilarious, but Sidney sees Taylor’s name on the screen of his phone.

It’s so good to hear her voice.

She tells him that she’s trying to make time to come down to Pittsburgh at Christmas. They talk dates and catch up for a while. He almost has convinced her to let him pay for her plane ticket when he spots something out of the corner of his eye.

“Sid?” he hears Taylor say.

“There is a dog in my garden,” he hears himself say.

“… you have two?”

Sidney blinks. “No. A dog that isn’t mine.”

A big dog.

A big, lanky dog, that looks like a grown up version of Sunshine and Olli.

Sunshine and Olli – they are sniffing at it curiously.

They are tiny compared to the fully grown dog. Sidney feels himself freeze.

Only nothing happens. Nothing other than the big dog dropping gracelessly down onto its belly.

“I’ve got to go,” Sidney tells Taylor.

“Call me back,” she orders.

“Promise.”

Leaving his iPhone on the table, Sidney cautiously goes outside. Up close, there is nothing feral or frightening about the dog. More like a family pet looking for a scratch than a stray, the dog rolls over when Sidney gets close. There are burrs between his furry paw pads and Sidney can see the outline of ribs. The winter has visibly been rough on him. Inside Sidney’s chest, his heart twists.

It isn’t fair.

Nothing is.

“What happened to you,” he finds himself saying.

The big dog makes a grumbly huffing sound in reply and then he rolls back onto his belly. He looks pathetic. He also seems to know Sidney has a soft heart. It doesn’t take much for Sidney to let him inside.

“Bath first,” Sidney tells him, before he can get to comfortable.

More utterly pathetic whimpers follow, especially when Sidney has to pull out scissors to cut off the worst of the matted knots. Like Sunshine and Olli, he’s some kind of husky or malamute. Just like they were, he’s in horrible condition. Some people really shouldn’t have dogs, especially not ones that require as much care as these ones do.

“I know, I know” Sidney says, when he pulls out the flee shampoo and the dog lets out a particularly pathetic whine. “It’ll be over soon.”

It isn’t. However the indignity is soon forgotten. All it takes is a bowl of food and an extra blanket by the radiator. 

 

 

“God, another one?” Kris asks, when he turns up that night for dinner.

“This one found me.”

Kris eyes the new addition suspiciously. “For some reason that doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Sidney shrugs.

“Does he have a name?”

“I was thinking Gronk.”

Kris snorts. “That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard.”

It kind of fits though.

 

 

“Jordan,” Kris says at work the following day. “Jordy.”

Sidney looks at him.

“That’s a better name. Call him that.”

It isn’t much better than Gronk, but then it isn’t worse.

“Call who what?” Mario asks, poking his head into Sidney’s office.

“The dog,” Kris explains.

“Another one?” Mario asks.

“Yep,” Kris says, exchanging a knowing look with him.

 

 

Sidney expects Kris to boast about naming another one of Sidney’s dogs. Instead he becomes rather sentimental. It isn’t like him.

“I think they were having a rough time before you found them,” Kris says.

He starts dropping over more often, and by the end of the month he might have moved into Sidney’s spare room. Sidney isn’t sure because the one time he asks Kris about it, he gets prickly. However he does give Sidney some money for rent, which Sidney supposes is an answer.

Kris isn’t a bad roommate, though the bar was set pretty low back in military school.

“Screw you, Squid,” Kris says, when Sidney tells him.

Sidney snorts.

What’s a little surprising is how Sidney’s dogs take to Kris. After their initial hostility, Sidney expected indifference at best. Instead it’s like Kris is a dog whisper or something. It’s annoying. They even stop barking at Sidney’s neighbour Paul Martin after Kris tells them to stop.

“Paulie’s lame but he’s cool,” Sidney overhears Kris telling them. “He’s not going to call the fuzz on any of us.”

Paul is a social worker and probably one of the nicest people Sidney has ever met. When Sidney first moved in, Paul dropped by with an orange and poppy seed cake he had baked. Yet whenever Sidney walked his dogs past Paul’s house, they always started trying to pull his arm off. The best Sidney managed before Kris worked his magic was to wave to Paul while running past him.

Now Sidney gets to actually talk to him and be neighbourly. (Whatever that means).

 

 

Sidney isn’t great with change, but he thinks he’s doing okay.

Then Evgeni Malkin is hired to head up the charity and fundraising arm of the Mario Lemieux Foundation.

 

 

Evgeni Malkin is a coup for the Mario Lemieux Foundation.

He was head hunted from the Naked Hearts Foundation where he helped Natalia Vodianova and Eugenia Makhlin create and launch the Elbi charity app. He’s passionate about mixing technology and philanthropy, and upon arrival in America is interviewed by Arianna Huffington on the subject. His appointment at the foundation is seen as a sign of great things to come. Everyone in Pittsburgh is talking about it.

Sidney doesn’t know what he expected when he meets Evgeni for the first time.

In person Evgeni is far more charismatic and brilliant than people promised he was. He is also tall, with strong shoulders and dark, hooded eyes. Sidney might have a problem.  Or he could have had one, only it seems like Evgeni – or Geno, as he tells people in the office to call him – has a problem with Sidney.

Sidney isn’t sure what happens.

They seem to start out on the right foot. Like Sidney, Evgeni is ex-military. After the success of the newest Playroom at the local VA hospital, the foundation leadership team decide to open others. Given their unique expertise, the two of them are put on the project. At their first inter-department meeting Evgeni gets Sidney’s stupid joke and smiles indulgently when Sidney pulls out some of his rusty Russian. While on deployment with the Russian forces in Afghanistan most of Sidney’s unit picked up enough phrases to communicate with the Russians. Mostly they were curse words. However on the whole, variations of fuck, fucked, and fucking were understood across cultures and languages.

Evgeni laughs when Sidney tells him that.

"Yes," he grins in agreement. “You could be a Muscovite. Almost fluent.” 

“Though not appropriate language for the office,” Sidney says.

Evgeni nods. “Maybe save just for me.”

His eyes are bright and Sidney’s breath catches, just a little.

Then Evgeni sees Sidney showing Mario pictures of his dogs on his phone when they all go out for lunch.

“Collars? Leashes?” Evgeni says.

His voice is suddenly very hard.

Sidney doesn’t understand.

“There are pretty strict leash laws in Pittsburgh.”

Evgeni's eyes narrow.

 

 

“He doesn’t like me,” Sidney finds himself telling Kris.

Kris has been strangely quiet for the last few days. Sidney mostly put it down to the build up to Christmas. Kris hasn’t gone into details, but Sidney knows he isn’t able to go home to Canada to celebrate it. (Sidney gets the impression that Kris isn't welcome home).

“I don’t like him,” Kris says. 

Kris doesn’t like a lot of people. He doesn’t like the city of Philadelphia as a whole.

However at work, he is a professional.

Sidney’s never seen Kris tell anyone to fuck off and mean it.

They’re at another bar when Sidney overheard Kris arguing with Evgeni.

Afterwards Kris cuts Sidney’s evening short and demands they go home. It’s not like Sidney was enjoying Friday staff drinks any more than usual, but he tries. If his dogs can go to the dog park each day, then Sidney can socialise with his co-workers once a week.

That should be that – at least until Monday morning. However an hour after they get home, there is a knock on the door.

It’s Evgeni.

His eyes are dark and his voice is unforgiving. Sidney might be worried, only Kris gives Sidney a look.

“I can handle this,” he says.

Sidney nods, but he stays within hearing distance.

Part two of their argument is quieter. He can’t hear everything, just snippets of their hushed fight.

“I saw the photo’s.”

And:

“He’s a good person. He doesn’t know”

“We have different names for people like him at home.”

“People like you are the reason I can’t go back to my home.”

And:

“You don’t know anything.” Kris says at one point. “We don’t need you. We’re fine here.”

It doesn’t really make any sense to Sidney. It’s especially confusing when Evgeni turns up at the dog park the following morning. At first, Sidney doesn’t notice. He’s too busy trying to stop Kris from unsnapping Sunshine’s leash. Just because Kris is the pied piper of canines and can walk all of Sidney’s dogs off leash, doesn’t mean he’s allowed to.

“The off leash areas are clearly signed,” Sidney tells him. “You’re going to get us fined if you keep doing this.”

“I don’t care,” Kris says. “I’ll pay. I make enough money.”

“That isn’t the point.”

Sidney is expecting a snide retort, but when none comes he glances over to Kris to find him glaring at a sports car parked by the entrance. Inside the park they find Evgeni at the coffee van. He has a beanie pulled low over his head and is wearing a cashmere coat that looks more expensive than Kris’ favourite Gucci suit.

“Morning,” he says when he sees them.

It’s awkward and Sidney is more than happy to let is dogs pull him away. When they go into the off leash area, Olli refuses to leave Sidney’s side. Gently patting him, Sidney glances over to the coffee van and watches Kris and Evgeni talk. It doesn’t seem heated, but it doesn’t seem exactly friendly either.

Sidney sighs. “I wish people were as easy as dogs.”

Olli makes a grumbly huffing sound. It sounds like agreement.

 

 

On Monday morning Evgeni apologises to Sidney.

He’s there when Sidney arrives. Sidney doesn’t know how early he must have arrived in order to get to the office before Sidney.

“I didn’t understand,” Evgeni says, his eyes dark and serious. “I’m sorry.”

Sidney shrugs. “It’s ok.”

Evgeni shakes his head. “It wasn’t.”

There is something in his voice that Sidney can’t place.

Sidney isn’t always good with people.

He is better now than he was as an ambitious and idealistic eighteen year old, but he still has to pay attention. He doesn’t have any of Kris’ easy charm or Mario’s charisma. He doesn’t know what happened between him and Evgeni. Something clearly did. Yet whatever it was, it went over Sidney’s head. All he knows for sure is it’s something he can either leave in the past or let cloud the future.

Forgiveness is a strange thing.

With Evgeni, it’s as easy as breathing.

That is that. Or close enough.

 

 

Sidney doesn’t want to hold anything against anyone. Anger is exhausting. Grudges are worse. Maybe he’s naïve. Or maybe he’s just tired.

 

 

There is something cautious about Evgeni after that.

Sometimes Sidney catches him watching him with a contemplative look in his eyes, but he takes care whenever he interacts with him.

The Playroom project brings them together most days. Evgeni has a lot of new ideas and he often drops by Sidney’s office to run them past him. Sidney isn’t exactly great at technology, but Evgeni is passionate and has a skill for making even the most complex initiatives comprehensible to the layman. They talk a lot about the role of charity in people’s everyday lives, and about community. The more they talk, the more they realise they have in common. Like Sidney, Evgeni believes even the smallest ripple can create change.

Once they start talking, they can’t stop.

It’s like they’re two sides of the same coin. Sidney’s never felt that with anyone.

They both get caught up in their work. Sidney used to make excuses to stay late at work in order to avoid going home, but Sidney doesn’t need an excuse with Evgeni. It’s easy to lose track of time. He probably wouldn’t remember to go home if it wasn’t for Kris knocking on his door at the end of the day.

“Sorry,” Sidney says, shutting down his laptop. “We’ll have to pick this up tomorrow.”

Evgeni smiles a little and nods. “First thing.”

At some point he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. It isn’t so crisp anymore, and there are ink stains on his hands. It's... it's a good look, Sidney thinks. 

 

 

Once the ice breaks, it’s hard to remember that they ever got off on the wrong foot. Even Kris warms up to Evgeni. 

Between the three of them, they start talking about opening up the grant process. Kris wants to streamline the application, while Evgeni wants the foundation to think bigger. Sidney thinks together they can really make a difference.

That being said, Kris isn’t exactly ecstatic when Evgeni starts casually dropping by their place.

“He's my friend,” Sidney says.

“Work friend,” Kris corrects.

Sidney rolls his eyes and goes to make some more popcorn. He thought he and the guys in his old unit could eat. They have nothing on Kris and Evgeni. Sidney isn’t sure where they put it. Or how they burn it off. It isn’t like either of them is enthusiastic when he asks them to join him on his evening run.

“We don’t need an Alpha,” Sidney over hears Kris say to Evgeni one night when Sidney is getting changed into his exercise gear.

“I don’t want to be anything you don’t want,” Evgeni replies.

Things seem to settle after that.

 

 

Sidney doesn’t know when it happens, but he stops waiting for the other shoe to drop.

At some point Pittsburgh becomes his home. It must have happened when he wasn’t looking. From knowing only Mario, Sidney now has friends – he has Kris and maybe Phil too. His empty and cold house has turned into a home. It’s warm and noisy and there are always muddy paw prints on the pine floorboards.

And there is Evgeni…

 

 

Sidney’s heart isn’t much good. It never was.

He finds himself falling for Evgeni all over again. He has kind hands and a gentle heart. When he comes over on the weekends, he sits on the floor and lets Sidney’s dogs climb all over him. Sidney doesn't stand a chance. 

There isn’t a moment that Sidney can point to. Or if there is, Sidney must miss it. There is only Evgeni bringing a hand up to touch Sidney’s neck and then kissing him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for ages,” Evgeni says when they break apart.

“Yeah?” Sidney asks.

Evgeni leans in and kisses the corner of Sidney’s mouth. “Yeah.”

 

 

Evgeni fits into Sidney’s life like he has always been there.

He steals a slice of Sidney’s toast in the morning and spoils the dogs whenever he gets the chance. At night he takes pleasure in undressing Sidney, sometimes slowly and sometimes in a rush to touch his skin. He makes Sidney laugh, and seems intent on embarrassing Sidney by leaving hickies on his neck.

“I’m having lunch with Mario today,” Sidney complains.

Evgeni grins. “Invite me. I want to talk to him about this idea I had last night.”

Sidney makes a face.

Evgeni is shameless.

 

 

Time moves forward. Things change. Sidney and his routines adjust. 

 

 

And then one morning Sidney stumbles into the kitchen to find a strange blonde guy eating leftovers from the fridge.

A strange, naked, blonde guy.

When he spots Sidney, he gets a deer in the headlights look on his face and drops the left over steak.

Sidney must let out a sound of surprise or maybe alarm because there is a slam of a door and some swearing and growling of puppies being woken up and –

“Fuck,” Kris swears.

"I can explain," the blonde guy says.

His eyes are very blue. Something in the back of Sidney’s mind clicks even though it shouldn’t because it doesn’t make any sense and then Evgeni stumbles out into the kitchen wearing a pair of Sidney’s boxers.  

“Oh,” he says. “Just Jordy. I thought something was wrong.”

“Jordy?” Sidney hears himself say.

Evgeni exchanges a look with Kris, and Kris glares back at him. Sidney thinks, it can’t be that. It can't be.

“We’re wolves.”

And.

Oh.

“Wait - what?”

Evgeni shrugs. “Wolves.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from Beau Taplin, _Remedy_ :
> 
>  
> 
> _Night air, good conversation, and a sky full of stars can heal almost any wound._


End file.
